The Artist Formerly Known as Cowboy
by Rosebud5
Summary: Jack Kelly was sick and tired. He was sick and tired of Manhattan. He was sick and tired of just being an average Newsie who, ooh, once upon a time last year, lead a strike. But mostly, he was sick and tired of...being a cowboy? Mild musical-based parody


Hey friends! I know I haven't been on here in a while... Life's been wild! But this story hit me over Thanksgiving Break, so it got to be written. And I hope you like it because I should be memorizing a script! ;-)  
>Anywho, yes, this is slightly parodying the musical. I must say...Not a fan. I'll admit I haven't seen it live, but I've seen parts of it all over the internet and no matter how often I watch it...It just doesn't growing on me. Jack's too emotional and cocky, Denton's GONE, Sarah's replaced...I just don't even know. But what made me the maddest is that they took away Jack's Cowboy-dom. And made him a stinkin' artist. This is not okay with me. And so here's this story. No flames please! I'm NOT bashing the musical. Just parodying it.<p>

The Newsies in this fic are from the movie...Look the same, are the same. This is not a _Newsies the Musical_ fan-fiction. It's a _Newsies_ fan-fiction.

Disclaimer: Own nothing...Not the movie OR the musical.

~Rosey

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><p><strong>The Artist Formerly Known as Cowboy<strong>

Jack Kelly was sick and tired.

He was sick and tired of Manhattan. He was sick and tired of just being an average Newsie who, _ooh_, once upon a time last year, led a strike. He also had a slight cold and hadn't gotten much sleep the past two days, so he literally was sick and tired as well as metaphorically. And that's always the worst.

And to top it all off, Jack was grumpy. It was rare for Jack Kelly to be grumpy. But dang it, grumpy he was.

"Jack, you okay?" Racetrack asked the sick and tired and grumpy Jack one particular afternoon in the Lodging House when the friends were playing poker.

Now when you're sick and tired and grumpy, being asked if you're okay does NOT make things any better. In fact, it makes it worse. And so Jack turned to Race and said grouchily "No, Race, I am not. I am sick and tired and grumpy."

Race blinked. This was an unusual response, even for Jack. He cleared his throat, trying his best not to look too freaked out. "Umm... I'm sorry, Cowboy."

And then, for no reason at all, Jack snapped. Flipped his lid. Snapped his cap. And all that jazz. "I'm not a Cowboy!" he erupted, crossing his arms defiantly. "I am an...artist!"

Racetrack blinked again, taking a step back. "Excuse me?"

Jack wasn't sure what he was saying, but it came out of him just the same. "I ain't never gonna get to Santa Fe, Race. And so I am turnin' in my Cowboy hat and am becomin' an...artist."

"Cowboy-"

"The Artist Formerly Known as Cowboy."

"Right...Erm...Ah...Jack. Are you sure you wanna do dis?" Racetrack rose an eyebrow, growing increasingly worried for his friend.

"Yes," Jack nodded. "I'm positive."

"Okay. Well. Do ya own a paintbrush?"

Jack's face faltered a little. "Well...No."

"Have ya ever drawn _anything?_"

Jack's face fell further. "Um well no."

"Do ya know who Van Gough is?"

Jack's face went slack. "No."

"Den you, sir, are no artist."

Jack gathered his strength again and fought back. "You don't know dat until I draw somethin'!"

Race crossed his arms. "Okay, den. Go draw somethin' and _den _ you can decide if you wanna become The Artist Formerly Known as Cowboy."

Jack swallowed. "Uh...Well... Okay." He grabbed a leftover pape and pencil, unsure exactly what he was doing. The pencil hovered over the paper for a moment before he faced Racetrack with a fake glare. "I can't work wid you watchin' me! Gimme a minute!"

Race rolled his eyes before leaving the room, grumbling something about _"goin' crazy under dat dumb cowboy hat."_

"Artist!"

"Whatever!"

XXX

"Well?" Jack stood before Race nervously, watching as his friend examined his drawing in the corner of the paper.

"Well...It's a very nice...Potato."

"It's a horse!" Jack's eyes grew puppy-wide.

"Oh. Well...Den...It's a nice...horse ya said it was?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Horse."

There was an awkward pause before Jack sighed and ripped the paper out of Race's hands. "Okay. I give up. I ain't an artist."

Race let out a relieved breath before he could stop himself. "So you're a cowboy again?"

"Yeah. Me bein' an artist is about as possible as Denton and Sarah bein' mushed into one news-reporter girl named Kathrine who I end up fallin' in love wid."

Race just stared at him. "Now _dat's _impossible."

"I'd say so."

And with that, the friends went back to playing poker.

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><p>The end! I hope you all liked it. Short, but hopefully funny-ish.<p>

So.

**REVIEW? For a late Birthday gift for me? lol**

~Rosey


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